Stepping into the Light
by LisaPark
Summary: Alexandria Manx, 16, Abnegation. I am not like my family, we are not like the rest of Abnegation. I am not normal. (Follows Trilogy, Cannon, OCxOC, TrisxFour) Terrible summary, please try this out.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys, this is my first story on and I would appreciate it if you would R&R. Anything found in bold has been taken directly from the book, not including any spelling or grammar mistakes (I am British, I spell it grey not gray, and anything else very British; sorry!)

Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent, I am simply expressing a style of writing.

Hope you enjoy

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**Chapter One**

Like the rest of my Faction, there should only be one mirror in my house. We are not like the others. My mother was from Erudite, my father Amity. My brother transferred to Erudite, like my mother had always wanted; but I think he became Factionless after failing initiation; he never did come back. We never see him now. Anyway, back to the mirrors. On the second day of each third month, we are allowed a few brief seconds with the mirror; vanity is not encouraged. This is the day we get a haircut. I suppose my mother should cut my hair; tradition and all; but as I said, we are not like the others. I swallow down my selflessness and look into the mirror; taking each long strand at a time and snipping right back up to my shoulder, letting the loose curls bounce around their newly-found home. My house has two mirrors, so that my older brother and me could have our hair cut at the same time, when I depended on my parents for everything; my dad would shave all of the hair off of my brother's head, while I would have a neat trim from my long waves, as my mother folded the hair into a neat bun. I am not like the rest of my Faction. I hold my curls above my shoulders, but below my chin; the radiant gold color like the morning sun; my lips are full and pink, my eyes a bright emerald. I have been told that my eyes are the windows to my true soul; rubbish.

"You always know how to make a statement, darling." My mother walks in. She's shorter than me, with platinum blonde hair and blazing blue eyes that make a statement in itself. In return I stiffly nod, we're not supposed to talk back to our parents. This is one of the only rules I follow of Abnegation. "Today is the day, are you ready?" She asks. She already knows my answer, for once, my nervousness proceeds me. "Of course not, I wasn't either, and same with your brother and father." She kisses my forehead, and I immediately relax, letting the smell of pinewood and soap envelope me.

Today is the day of the aptitude test which will decide which of the five factions suits me the best; which one my mind believes I belong. Tomorrow, the Choosing Ceremony; the day I choose my own fate for the rest of my days. Stay with my family in Abnegation, or transfer, the same as my brother from us, and my parents from their families. I think back to the Eaton family, and how both of Marcus' children headed to the same faction; the one nobody seems to talk about or acknowledge; the Dauntless. The Brave.

"Would you hate me if I didn't choose Abnegation? Or if the tests tell me otherwise?" I ask my mother, my voice quiet; hoarse.

"Of course not, sweetie. My family shunned me, and I never want you to feel the same." She kisses my forehead once more and heads to the door, stopping for a moment to cover the mirror with a brown, crisp cloth. "Breakfast is ready when you're ready." She states, her eyes glazing over, as if thinking back to a time in the past. I leave her to go, allowing a small smile to grace my lips before I look down at my watch. It's the only thing each family is allowed one of, as they're seen as practical, and being late for someone who is waiting for you is seen as selfish, so they keep you in line.

It's my turn to make breakfast. My father is sitting at the table already, the plates, cloth and cutlery already set; my mother's treat since it's such a stressful day. I make a small breakfast for myself, and a considerable amount for my parents. They will have to take it today for lunch. No time to make their own lunches. I look over at my father, his hairline is receding and his smile lines are turning more and more into wrinkles across his forehead. Amity; Kindness. Something well treasured here in Abnegation.

School. The lessons today only last until half day, so we can take the tests. I am assuming they do it at school; that's what it seems like when the Initiates leave every year. **The bus stinks of exhaust. Every time it hits a patch of uneven pavement, it jostles me from side to side, even though I'm gripping the seat to keep myself still.** I look across the bus, to the other side, where the only person I recognize is; Beatrice Prior. I vaguely know her brother, Caleb, but we are mere acquaintances. Me and Beatrice used to be friends, playmates when we were kids. Something long lost. I smile at her, a small nod of the head. A standard greeting in Faction Abnegation. Her brother is quite the looker, something unnoticed by the other Factions; we're usually called Stiffs and thrown to the side. **When he was younger, the collection of features** on his structured face **looked strange, but now it suits him.** I turn away from their family, they will always be siblings; always have love. That is something where my family exceeds in failing. Love.

I turn towards the tinted windows, looking out at the city. **The gaps between the buildings narrow and the roads are smoother as we near the heart of the city. The building that was once called Sears Tower - we call it the Hub- emerges from the fog, a black pillar in the skyline. The bus passes under the elevated tracks. **I look up at the tracks as we pass under, the Dauntless are the only ones known to ride the trains in the City. The tracks are reserved for them to do as they please; something which usually involves them throwing themselves off of the trains to prove their bravery.

The bus draws to a stop outside the school; first stop on its journey through the City. I get up and rush to the side of the Priors. Beatrice stumbles over the man sitting down, Candor's, foot and I give a small chuckle, looking down after her as she exits the bus, still clutching her brother's arm to hold herself steady.

**The Upper Levels building is the oldest of the three schools in the city: Lower Levels, Mid-Levels and Upper Levels. Like all the other buildings around it, it is made of glass and steel. In front is a large metal structure that the Dauntless climb after school, daring each other to go higher and higher. **I think it's cool, their bravery. I tried to climb the structure once. I may be the only person who's made it to the top. Last year, we watched as a few of them got into a fight at the top, and a few fell down. Only one got hurt. She broke her leg, and Beatrice was the one who ran to get the nurse.

I turn towards Faction History - class one in a shortened day. That's the right hand side of the corridor, left takes you to Math and Science Study. As I walk, one question spirals through my head; the one question on everyone's minds (anyone who's sixteen anyway) - Abnegation, Candor, Erudite, Amity or Dauntless? Only the tests will tell where you truly belong. The hallways in the school are as they always are - cramped and full of body odor. The windows let in little light; setting an illusion of space and despair. This is the only place where the factions all mix and can act friendly with each other; at least, that's what they encourage. I watch as a few of Erudite push Abnegation to the floor; after Erudite started to release antagonistic reports about Abnegation and started to taint our reputation, we've been getting a lot more of that; pushing, dirty looks and foul language. That's the worst part of my day. We're quite recognizable, stand-outs, even. We're always dressed in plain grey clothes, plain and simple hairstyles and cuts and the plain, selfless looks on our faces: Abnegation. It's supposed to make it easier for us to "forget ourselves", but I think that's a whole load of rubbish. It just proves us easier to be spotted in a crowd.

A train whistle blares from outside, the windows and atmosphere seeming to shake with the anticipation of the arrival of the Dauntless-born. They hurtle themselves from the train as it passes the school, and throw themselves onto rooftops and three stories below onto some sort of flat surface. They stumble and they laugh. Uncommon in the other factions: Laughter. I head on to Faction History; stumbling into a student as I pass, offering an apology to the dark-skinned Candor, I run to my next class; I'm late.

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I am sorry if this story bores you, it will get better. If you have any opinions just leave a review. Not necessary, just a thought. Have a good day


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, I'm back with another chapter. Please leave some reviews. The next chapter won't be posted until I get at least one (not trying to be pushy, but I really need someone to tell me their thoughts)**

**Thanks guys!**

**Disclaimer: I am not the owner of Divergent, I am simply writing a FANMADE fictional piece. All parts directly quoted from the book are in Bold. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter Two**

**The tests are on after lunch. We sit at long tables in the cafeteria, and the test administrators call ten names at a time, one for each testing room. **I sit where I always sit in the cafeteria. Alone in the corner, huddled; not eating. I know already that the results will no show anything that I am choosing. I'm not even sure I want to be chained to a Faction. Maybe I'll be Factionless, I won't fit any faction. What happens then?

The test administrators are practically all Abnegations. Volunteer workers. Selfless. There is one from Erudite in one room, and another from Dauntless, two people to test us lot. Abnegation. The rules clearly state that you can't be tested by someone from your faction. It's illegal. The rules also state that we can't prepare for this or any other test given to us by the Factions. So we never know what to expect.

There is always a table for each Faction in the cafeteria when the Initiation day comes around. Abnegation consists of small talk around the table, boring chatter and simple greetings. Boring. Then there's Amity. Mostly a group of girls **in yellow and red sit in a circle on the cafeteria floor, **next to their designated table,** playing some kind of hand slapping game involving a rhyming song. **They are too sweet and kind for my taste. I turn away from them and look to the next Faction; Erudite. **At another set of tables, Erudite chatter over books and newspapers, in a constant pursuit of knowledge**. And from what we have been seeing from them and their newspapers; a thirst for power. They've been driven away from their main purpose. **At the table next to them, Candor boys make wide gestures with their hands. They appear to be arguing over something, but it must not be serious, because some of them are still smiling. **With us, we supposedly have to be selfless, so we keep to ourselves, not bothering anyone else. We sit and wait. Silent. We are supposed to talk to our preference. But no. Then there's Dauntless. **They are laughing and shouting and playing cards. **How I wish I was a part of a group like that. Fun. Laughter. Here at Abnegation we get stuck with routines. Boring.

I watch as Caleb Prior's name is called. He stands confidently as he nods to his sister. Stiff. Beatrice doesn't reply, or acknowledge this, she just continues to stare after him. He looks like he belongs with the greys. Us. Abnegation. But from the fact that he's walking so confidently, but has that glimmer of happiness in his eyes as he looks around at the other Factions; in particular, Erudite. He doesn't belong.

The sections don't take long. By the ten minute marker is up, that group heads back out, they are all nervous, but I watch the Prior boy in particular. He looks nervous and sweaty. His grey t-shirt sticks to his side and dark circles of sweat and what looks like crusted tears mark his grey pants. We can't discuss result. Never.

One of the volunteers, who, when I look up, I recognize as my neighbor, Maria Halle, she looks down at her list and clearly reads the names of the two from each faction. Not me yet. I watch as Beatrice heads into the rooms, followed by a young girl I don't know, but she's wearing all grey, with her blonde hair in a bun; Abnegation. Time flies by, Susan returns, then the Dauntless, who look proud, and then the Candor boy, and then Erudite, then Amity, the Candor girl; but Beatrice never comes back out. I wonder where she's gone, when Maria clears her throat and the room falls silent, except for the occasional Dauntless who snickers and tries to smother it.

"Dauntless: Uriah Pedrad and Lynn Mansto. Erudite: Myra Nats and Will Mezi. Amity: Lyla Ingrad and Bob Yilta. Candor: Christina Kravitz and Molly Atwood. Abnegation: Robert Black and Alexandria Manx." I gulp. This is the moment where I must step up to the plate and get it over and done with. I head towards the door, but not before I send dirty looks at the Erudite for the torture they put us through. Hey, I may never see them again, right?

**Waiting for us outside the cafeteria is a row of ten rooms. They are used only for aptitude tests, so I have never been in one before. Unlike other rooms in the school, they are separated, not by glass, but by mirrors.** I watch in the mirror, staring at my feet, as I walk towards one of the doors which states Abnegation only. I nod at Robert once, and give him a thumbs up before heading into the room. Inside there is a chair, a metal chair, with wires sticking out of the bottom, and small conical cup with clear liquid inside. A monitor is blackened on the screen and some cables with headsets are attacked to the computer below. The man waiting for me inside is kind looking when he finally turns to me, as I avoid my own gaze in the mirror. Selflessness. I watch his back as he sets up the computer.

"Right, let's get this over with." He finally turns to me, a smile on his face, but it drops when he spots who has walked into the room. "God, you're not sixteen already are you?" He jokes, and I smiled instantly, unshed tears of years falling down my face. I walk briskly towards him and envelope his lanky frame in my arms, burying my face in his jacket.

"Hey Max." I whisper in his ear, a watery laugh escaping my lips.

"Yeah, yeah. Come on squirt. Let's get you done with this test and we can see if you're coming to join me in Erudite, huh?" He jokes and I glare slightly, and he knows why. I jump up onto the chair, and relax as he hands me the serum in the conical flask. "Bottoms up, Lex." He assures me, and I gulp the mixture.

"I trust you." My final words before my eyes force themselves shut and I'm cast into darkness in the room.

When my eyes open again, I'm standing in the cafeteria again. It seems as though no time has passed; except the tables are all gone, which leaves the steel walls too bare, and the rooms are all gone behind the door. In front of me, on a white clothes table are two small baskets. One hold a silver knife the length of my forearm, and the other a hunk of cheese. I feel a whisper of wind, and I turn, but find no-one else there but me.

"Choose." The wind whispers to me, making the room feel even more empty. There's no-one there.

"Do I have to?" I ask, looking between the two objects.

"Choose!" The voice screeches, and I sigh, taking the knife, but before both could disappear, grab a hunk of the block of cheese, slicing through it with the knife. I now have both. I scowl as I am left with an empty room again, as I turn to the door, the table and baskets disappear. The door leading to the rooms creaks. Creepy. I see something move in the darkness and I gasp a little, released into the room is a dog. It has a pointed snout, and is looking right at me. It stands a few feet away, crouching low and growling at me. It creeps forwards, pawing the ground every few steps to intimidate. I close my eyes for a fraction of a second and calm myself. I can feel the dog snarling nearby, not uncommon. I hold the knife away from my body, not allowing the threat to take advantage. I hold the cheese in one hand, the cold demeanor slowly melting and ebbing away, just like my fear of this dog. I look right over the eyes, knowing that looking into the eye of a feral dog could prove fatal for me.

I take the knife and cut up the cheese into little blocks, while looking directly at the dog. I hold the cheese close to my face for a second, to let the dog see it, before placing it down on the floor, leading a trail to where the tables once stood in the cafeteria. I grasp at the wall as the dog sniffs the food and follows the trail, eating a little bit as it goes, calming a little. And when the dog had calmed enough to not eat her, she sliced away at its back, right along the spine, leaving a wound just deep enough to paralyze the creature, but not kill it. It hadn't done anything wrong yet. I took a deep breath as it lay down, seemingly tranquilized. I take a deep breath and sink to my knees, taking in the moment; before I turn and find a little boy and girl; around seven and three respectively standing down next to the dog. The little girl grins and stretches out her arms, squealing.

"Puppy!" She shouts, running towards the beast from across the room. I try and warn her to stop, but she doesn't heed me any attention, and instead runs towards the dog. Then I know she is special. She turns to me for a moment, her head cocked to one side. She looks me over and I know that look, that gold hair and those emerald eyes; and I realize that she is me. I am the curious one out of my family. The dog is immediately attentive. It growls, lying low and trying to pounce on the girl. I growl in return and launch myself in front of the little girl, protecting her as the dog snaps at her legs. She screams and run, the dog trying to follow. I grab the knife which I had thrown to the other end of the room and stab the dog in the back, this time killing it. But before it dies, I kiss it's muzzle and whisper a prayer.

"Sorry." I whisper and let it go, watching as the little girl ebbs away, her essence blowing into the breeze. The scene suddenly changes, launching me across the room and banging my head into the wall, which morphs into a bus and all the seats are taken. It is rush hour on the bus and everyone is rushing home from work. A man sits near me with a newspaper, much like this morning on the bus. His hands are scarred and ugly, mangled even. I can't see his face, but if his hands are anything to go by, I won't want to see his face. His hands are clenched to the paper, crumpling the edges and creating the effect that the newspaper was in the fire with him which burned his hands.

"Do you know this man?" He asks, his voice rough, tapping the picture with one chubby finger. I look at the front of the newspaper, struggling to read the front as the bus clatters, but I can vaguely read the headline. "Brutal Murderer Finally Apprehended!" I look at the headline, then down at the image, The man is familiar; he holds a plain face and beard, He doesn't loom over forty, but isn't under sixteen. The question is, where do I know him from? I feel like I know him, but the whole task depends on whether I am willing to tell the man that I know him or not. I clear my thoughts when he speaks again.

"Well, do you?" He asked, and I shrug lightly, not knowing how to answer.

"DO YOU?" He repeats, emphasizing each letter. I take a deep breath and push the newspaper down so I can look at the man. He wears dark sunglasses which I can't breach, his cheeks and forehead rippled and ruined with scars and burns; just like his hand. He leans close as I answer.

"Yes, sir. I know this man." I tell him and he smiles slightly.

"You've just saved me, Lass." He tells me, and I shake my head as my head gets bashed into the side of the bus and I awake in the test room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey! This is just a small filler chapter right here. Nothing much. I was hoping to add two at once, but I think one is enough for now until I have written more for now.**

**Thanks for reading.**

**Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing by OCs. Anything you recognize is in bold (thought I don't think there is any in this chapter)**

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**Chapter Three**

I awake, breathing deeply, to Max moving around me quickly, disconnecting any wires attached to my head or his. I watch him with a confused expression on my face, not concealed at all. I rotate my head every now and again, watching my brother move around the chair. His palms were sweaty and his forehead looked clammy. I watch him as he deletes all information on the computer, being swift and using his knowledge from Erudite to his great advantage.

"Listen to me carefully, Alexandria. This is important, a matter of life and death even. Your results aren't normal, Dri. They're off by a limit. You've been sorted into all five factions. A little of Dauntless, Amity, Abnegation. Some Condor and very little, but still a bit, of Erudite." He whispered, looking behind him every sentence, as to be sure that no-one would walk in. _What is he afraid of?_ I lean closer, my hand shaking so much that I have to clutch at the edges of the chair to calm myself, the cool metal slick against my sweaty palms. "This is really bad, sis. Too bad. I can't help you any more than this. You have to be wary, don't tell anyone of your results; never tell anyone. This has to be a secret, I'm going to manually input results for you, it's going to show you that you're headed back to Abnegation, that's what your results have to be. If you tell anyone about this, you could die, Dri. Don't let anyone know. I love you, give my love to mum and dad." He kisses my forehead and I lean into his touch, missing him so much.

"I don't understand, Max, what's going on? How can I die?" I ask, tears in my eyes. I bring my hands closer to my face, still shaking to myself.

"What you are is called Divergent. It's the state of not belonging to one of the Factions. It's the state of not being able to be controlled by the Factions. It's dangerous, to be like this. It's hard. If your faction find you to be Divergent, they'll kill you straight off. They don't like people they can't control. You've got to be careful, Dri. You need to stay safe, now get out of here before an official comes to find you." He kissed my forehead once again. "Get out of here." He orders, and I obey, walking out of the door and heading back to the cafeteria, ready for the signal which allows me to go home. The bell goes which tells me it's the end of the day, and I sigh deeply, rushing out of the school gates, only pausing for a moment to watch the Dauntless-born run out of the school and onto the moving train, as if it were like riding a bike. I look to them and laugh, watching as one trips and flies head-first into the train's doors, his friend cackling as he clung on and pulled himself onto the train.

I head towards the bus stop, but change my mind at last minute, turning and instead walking down towards my house on the Abnegation Faction. On my way, I pass a group of Factionless, who seem weak, begging for food, water and for clothing. I let my shoulders droop, and head into their numbers, taking off my grey shawl, my undershorts, and my under top from under my dress. I remove my packed lunch from my bag and hand it over to them, breaking it into small groups of food, to hand to the adults, elderly and children.

They thank me gratefully, some even shake my hand. I nod to them, politely, like a good Abnegation should do, that's what my results show, so why not? I allow them to hug me one by one, and for once I am grateful that I am Abnegation, helping people. Selfless.

I head on my way, watching a group of children from Amity, obviously their parents are in town doing something, they're playing some sort of clapping and rhyming game, each round eliminating a player until only two remain. I smile in their direction, and they smile back waving their little hand. I let out something rare for me, a small laugh. They giggle around each other, watching me struggle to stop laughing, and then wave again, heading me on my way.

I check my watch on my wrist - ten minutes early. I must have walked faster than I intended to. I reach the edge of the Faction, and step backwards on the cracked pavement as a group of Dauntless run by, whooping and cheering as they run for the train. I watch them, they intrigue me. I miss Dillion and Tobias. I wish I could see them again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Adding two chapters in one go here; probably not going to post again for a while; I'm on Work Experience for tomorrow and Thursday, and it's time to get into revision. So sorry!**

**I am really happy with how this is going, so please R&R if you can!**

**Standard Disclaimer: I own a laptop and creativity; not Divergent. I am not the owner; I only own my characters.**

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**Chapter Four**

Five minutes until we're due home from school, schedule says. I walk past the part of the faction where I used to live, next door to Marcus, our leader, and his two sons. The memories of this part of town disgust me to the core, and I move on, shaking my head free of memories. My family live on the edge of the housing estate, we all live in identical homes; they're all the same shape, size and design. **They're made out of grey cement, with few windows, in economical, no-nonsense rectangles. **The simplicity disgusts me and makes me wish my parents hadn't chosen this faction to be their home. That's exactly why Max left, he couldn't stand the simplicity of it all, all the selflessness and rules. He likes being free in Erudite.

**The reason for the simplicity isn't our disdain for uniqueness, as the other factions have sometimes interpreted it. Everything - our houses, our clothes, our hairstyles** (although not mine)**- is meant to help us forget ourselves and to protect us from vanity, greed, and envy, which are just forms of selfishness. If we have little, we want for little, and we are all equal, we envy no-one.** I don't like to follow these rules, there are some situations where selfishness is good, helps the heart and mind to settle. That's why I know I don't belong here, but I'm not awfully truthful, kind or intelligence seeking either. I suppose I don't fit into any of the factions, but my tests say I fit into them all. I just don't get it.

I pass Beatrice on her front door step, and wave, giving a polite nod and bow. She grins at me in return and waves. I laugh to myself as I pass, turning in time to see her brother, Caleb; and Susan and Robert Black. The boy I was paired with to go into the aptitude test. I wave at them too, and Caleb gives me a disapproving look. I glare back at him, and he sighs. Typical Caleb Prior. Following Caleb and the Blacks are the rest of the grey-wearing uniforms heading into the estate from school. I roll my eyes at them all and head home, pausing slightly to look out over the fence which keeps us in. I just want to head home and prepare for the Choosing Ceremony tomorrow.

_Which faction do I choose?_

When I get home, my mother is already there, her shift at the voluntary sector of this Faction must have finished early today, she isn't usually home at this time. Then it hits me, she's home early for me. Because she thought I would want to talk about her and Dad's old Factions. She was wrong. As I enter the room, she looks up at me and smiles, the warmth not spreading far enough to reach her dull grey eyes.

"How was your day, sweetie?" She asks, turning back to dinner.

"It was okay, it wasn't too exciting." I reply, replacing my smile with a look of respect. "The tests weren't too much anything." I add, making sure we skip the topic of the tests. "Max was my administrator though, he sends his love. He would visit more often, but Erudite has stopped any family visiting from Abnegation." I continue, drawling out the ending as my mother's cold smile falls.

"Oh, that's lovely dear. Would you mind changing and cleaning yourself up a little, we have Marcus over for dinner tonight. He and your father will be discussing some politics, so you must remember your rules and manners at the table. He is the leader of the Faction after all." She reminds me, and I curtsey to her, heading upstairs to the bedroom. My bedroom is white colored inside, I found some left-over pain after we did a community project to paint some of the buildings in the city and I painted my room white, to get rid of the dull grey. My bed is a rectangular wooden plank attached to the wall with a thin mattress and a thin duvet cover. All grey. I have a wardrobe with three outfits inside. All grey. I have a desk with a lamp to do my school work when I get home. All grey. I'm sick of the grey.

I change into a more appropriate dress, and to tie my short length of curls into a small ponytail, which I tuck into a neat bun. Plain and simple. I wash off any trace of dirt, make-up or anything that may seem inappropriate to the leader. I make sure my nails are clean and I look suitable. I hate plain and simple.

I hear the front door open, and my father enter the house, followed by large, heavy footsteps. Marcus. I head down the stairs, careful not to trip on my way down. My mother and I curtsey to our leader, and I kiss my father's cheek.

"How was your day, Alexandria?" My father asks, and I resist the temptation to roll my eyes and not answer, instead I smile curtly and reply.

"Good." A simple one-worded answer. Exactly what he was looking for. My father looks nothing like me, neither does my mother; and sometimes I wonder whether I am actually part of my family, or if they stole me from somewhere else. My father has greying brown hair, like my brother, and bright blue eyes. He isn't particularly good looking, but he isn't entirely ugly. I look over at Marcus and smile. "Good evening sir." I greet with a nod, and he nods back.

"Good to see you, Alexandria." He replies, and we sit at the table, my mother ladling the stew she made onto our plates. My father is the first to talk after we start to eat.

"Lovely food, Lynn." He comments, and we all nod in agreement.

"Thank you." She replies, blushing slightly. I haven't seen my mother blush in a long time. Marcus seems uncomfortable and has a look of anger on his face. He's had the same look since he first arrived.

"What's bothering you, Marcus?" My mother asks. I am also curious, but children should not talk unless asked a direct question.

"A report, from Jeanine Matthews. Stating that I have a bad character, and accusing me of abusing my sons when they were still in this faction, and that's why they left." He replies, his head bowed low. I can tell that he isn't sincere at all. He used to beat his children. And I know it. Even though he won't admit it to anyone. He hit me too, once; when I was there to talk to Leo. He never looked at me the same again.

"That's terrible, Marcus, you would never do such a thing." My mother turns to me now, her eyes looking ten years older, and darker than before. "You are finished here, Dri. Go to your room now, please." My mother demands, even though it sounds polite, I can tell there is an ulterior motive.

_What are they hiding?_

Instead of mulling over my questioning, I think about the Factions, where I belong, Divergent. What does that mean? Divergent. I want to know more, but I can't allow my parents to know my results. They'd probably kill me too. I could never let that happen.

_**The tests don't have to change our choices.**_

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**Next chapter'll be up in a moment.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's the next chapter!**

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**Chapter Five**

The usual bus comes earlier today, and takes a different route. Everyone is heading in for the Choosing Ceremony. **The bus we take to get to the Choosing Ceremony is full of people in grey shirts and grey slacks. A pale ring of sunlight burns into the clouds like the end of a lit cigarette. I will never smoke one myself - they are closely tied with vanity- but a crowd of Candor smokes them in front of the building when we get off the bus.**

The Hub is a tall building, so high that even if you stand ten meters away from the entrance, and you tilt your head up, you still can't see the top, as it grazes in the clouds. It is seen to be the tallest building of the city. You can see the two little lights on the prongs of the roof from the North Bedroom window in the Abnegation houses. They all face the same way, all have the same design. All grey.

Everyone gets the bus with their parents, but being in Abnegation, and seeing the bus so full, my parents let more of the kids get the bus, and start to walk instead. This is seen as a great act of sacrifice. They don't know what sacrifice means. We get off the bus, me sticking closely to Susan Black, who I can see right in front of me. The crowds are so dense that I think that if I stick to Susan, I can't get lost. My heart is beating at a thousand miles an hour. I steady my breathing as I enter the front doors, glass.

The elevator is crowded, it's so many flights up that no-one wants to walk it, but we are Abnegation, we always take the selfless option. Mr. Prior takes a cluster of us forwards, giving a group of Amity our place in the line, they are grateful. We take to the stairs, climbing in a blur of grey. We set an example for the rest of Abnegation, and for the rest of the Factions. The blur turns into a mass, and we take three steps at a time as not to trip anyone over, or let anyone get hurt in the crowds. The uniform pounding of feet, as everyone gets to a rhythm that suits even the smallest of children; if we were allowed children in the ceremony.

As we head to the top, my legs start to ache, a dull throb which is a constant. My head becomes dizzy and faint, and I struggle to breath. It seems I am not the only one feeling these pains, as some people stop in crooks in the stairwell to take deep breaths and gather their footing.

We finally reach out destination, the twentieth floor, and we bow our heads in respect of Mr. Prior, who is holding the door open for everyone to get through. He smiles lightly at me when he doesn't see my parents, and mouths "Good Luck". What do you need luck for in the Choosing Ceremony?

**The room is arranged in concentric circles. On the edges stand the sixteen year-olds of every faction. We are not called members yet; our decisions today will make us initiates, and we will become members if we complete initiation.**

**We arrange ourselves in alphabetical order**. I am stuck between some Amity boy and a Dauntless girl. She smiles at me, excited for the ceremony, while the boy behind her snorts and calls me a "Stiff". That's slang for Abnegation. We're stiffs, we're frigid. Selfless.

She elbows him and he stops laughing, falling silent. "Thanks." I whisper to her, as we face the front, she just smiles in return and nods. I laugh to myself and look at the Amity boy. We're near the front. Not many people have last names beginning with letters above "M", we have a lot of lower names, like Quento and Zetrik.

**Rows of chairs for our families make up the circle. They are arranged in five sections, according to Faction. Not everyone of each faction comes to the Choosing Ceremony, but enough of them show up to make the crowds look huge. **They come to congratulate. They come to say goodbye.

Abnegation is leading the Ceremony this year, with Marcus presenting the names and people. I hate Marcus, he's a pig and a bully. I can never look at him the same after what he did to Leo and Tobias. Never forget.

I am the fifteenth person to choose their Faction. I am not ready. The last circle consists of five stands, each with a large metal bowl on top, the bowl is large enough to fit an entire body if they're in the fetal position. Each contains a substance that represents the Factions; grey stones is Abnegation, earth for Amity, water for Erudite, glass for Candor and lit coals and ashes for Dauntless.

When Marcus calls the names, the person called will walk to the center. There is no speaking in the ceremony; against the rules. He offers a knife, you take it. You cut into your hand or wrist, and drip a drop or two of your blood into the bowl that you want. You choose.

My parents still aren't here. hey probably were allowing the Factionless into our home again, giving them food and warmth and clothing. This is what my parents do. I'll be sad, this is probably the last time I will see them if I don't choose Abnegation; something I do not want. I want to be brave, and kind and helpful and honest. But I can't be all of the factions. I must pick one.

Marcus starts the ceremony off.

**"Welcome to the Choosing Ceremony. Welcome to the day we honor the democratic philosophy of our ancestors, which tells us that every man has the right to choose his own way in this world."**

I smile nervously at the girl from before, and she squeezes my shoulder, reassuring me, bringing me back into the present. But first, I concentrate on her. She looks intellectual, she has kind brown eyes and full lips. She came from Dauntless, and has muscles up her arms, which define her look. She also has three tattoos along her arms and sticking out under the cropped top. She is what I aspire to be. Kind, helpful and brave. She looks Divergent, but I have a feeling she isn't.

**"Our dependents are now sixteen. They stand on the precipice of adulthood, and it is now up to them to decide what kind of people they will be." Marcus's voice is solemn and gives equal weight to each word. "Decades ago, our ancestors realized that it is not political ideology, religious belief, race or nationalism that is to blame for a warring world. Rather, they were determined that it was the fault of human personality- of humankind's inclination toward evil, in whatever form that is. They divided into factions that sought to eradicate those qualities they believed responsible for the world's disarray. Those who blamed aggression formed Amity. Those who blamed ignorance became Erudite. Those who blamed duplicity created Candor. Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation and those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless. Working together, these five factions have lived in peace for many years, each contributing to a different sector of society. Abnegation has fulfilled our need for selfless leaders in government; Candor has provided us with trustworthy and sound leaders in law; Erudite has supplied us with intelligent teachers and researchers; Amity has given us understanding counselors and caretakers; and Dauntless has provided us with protection from threats both within and without. But the reach of each faction is not limited to these areas. We give one another far more than can be adequately summarized. In our factions, we find meaning, we find purpose, we find life." Marcus adds. "Apart from them, we would not survive." **The hall falls completely silent, apart from the occasional cough, everyone is soaking in this man's words. His speech has to be one of the best so far. I have never heard the hall so quiet before. **"Therefore this day marks a happy occasion - the day on which we receive our new initiates, who will work with us toward a better society and a better world."** Marcus finished and the room is deafened b a round of applause, even Erudite is cheering. It makes a great speech to have a strong leader, even if I do hate him, I have to respect him. Each in turn, the sixteen year-olds step out of line and cut their hands, heading to their new factions with applause and hugs. Most people choose their home faction, some move away, fourteen people go by, and then, I am on the spot.

"Alexandria Manx." He reads off of the list, and he avoids my eyes as I walk up to the circle. My eyes widen as he hands me the knife, and I press it to the palm of my hand, letting the cool drops of blood spring free, I hold my other hand out to stop the blood dripping into the wrong bowl. I head towards Abnegation, and then turn to look at my family, my father looks pleased, but my mother looks angry. I am choosing my family over my passion. Then I know what I must do, I head to Dauntless and allow all of the falling blood into the bowl, the flames have a sudden rush and they nearly take my hair off but I step back in time and take my plaster from the table. The Dauntless cheer and congratulate me, hugging me and giving me a seat. The girl from behind me smiles at me as she quickly slices her hand and allows the blood to drip into Dauntless. Her family cheers and she comes and sits next to me.

"Marlene." She introduces, and now that I'm no long in Abnegation, I grin and bump my fist with hers.

"Lex." I reply and it's her turn to grin at me.

"I like it, you should change it to that when we get there." She mutters as the room falls silent again. A few more names go by, and I look up in time to see Caleb cutting his hand. The blood pools in his palm, and he looks back at his parents or a moment, a brief moment, he breaths in, and then out. He holds his hand out, and all of Abnegation gasps. The water in the Erudite bowl turns a shade of pink with his blood. Erudite cheers, Abnegation mutter. Caleb Prior chose the enemy. No-one from Abnegation will talk to him now. He's a traitor.

"Beatrice Prior." Marcus continues when the hubbub is over. She looks behind her at her brother, who nods. She walks with her jaw set, her eyes trained. She takes the knife from Marcus and turns towards the bowls. She grits her teeth and drags the bade smoothly over her hand, thrusting her hands out, the blood falls into the carpets below the bowls, staining the white rd. Then she shifts her hands forwards and Dauntless cheer around me, as my voice joins them; her blood sizzles away on the coals.


	6. Chapter 6

**In wake of the long delay from the last chapter (for that I am very sorry), I will post two chapters now, but I am back at school on Tuesday, so from then on, there will be long delays on the chapters, but rest assured, I will still be here, typing away every day after school (if I can) to get a new chapter out every few days.**

**So standard disclaimer: I don't own Divergent, just my OC characters,**

**and enjoy the chapters.**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

I watch as Beatrice joins us in the Dauntless circle. Her eyes are trained on her feet, and I grin. The Dauntless-born initiates surround us, mostly crowding in front. They're all really tall, taller than me anyway. I only see blackened clothing, tattoos and wild hair from where I stand. That's okay, we're nearly over with anyway. **The last girl makes her choice-Amity-and it's time to leave. The Dauntless exit first.** I shuffle in the crowds, avoiding the gazes if my last faction, Abnegation, as they glare heatedly into our backs. I turn for a second to look back at Marcus, who has snapped his pencil in the fact that the last person who he hits has now escaped. We're free. I look over at the other families; some are crying, some smiling and hugging their children, and then there's those who had both of their children leave in one; the Priors. Beatrice's father is glaring, while her mother is smiling. Something uncommon in parents, let alone in Abnegation.

The groups press forwards, the Dauntless pushing ahead of the others to get to the train on time. The train never stops, but there is a schedule to stick to. I look around at the new initiates, they're not bad, some are weak and pasty; but I assume it's either nerves or an act. The Erudite transfer to my left looks like he's about to throw up, it can't be that bad... Can it? The Dauntless Headquarters has never been seen to anyone other than the Faction and visitors, and even then, they're sworn to secrecy. They're very superstitious.

The Dauntless head to the staircase, kicking open the doors and running. I thought it was only the Abnegation who took the stairs, and then it hits me. This isn't out of kindness, this is out of bravery, and courage. I feel my heart surge. This is where I belong. The crowds whoop and laugh as they jump every few stairs to get to the bottom faster. The thundering feet moving at different time periods, making it sound almost like a drum session. The drumming matches the beating of my heart.

"What the hell is going on?" the boy next to us shouts, and I shrug as Beatrice shakes her head at him, we carry on running. We finally reach the first floor, and like before, my legs ache, my back burns and my lungs are screaming for air. I ignore it as the Dauntless burst through the exit. The air outside is like heaven. It's crisp and cold. It's perfect. The sky is turning a glimmering orange as we head out onto the street; and it reflects off of the black glass on the Hub building. I love it, it makes me feel at home already, and I'm not talking about Abnegation.

The Dauntless born and those who came to watch spread along the street, sprawling out like a black puddle. We block the path for a bus, and the ones at the back have to sprint to keep up with the crowds. The running is great, at Abnegation, we're not allowed to run through the streets, in case we trip someone over; that's selfish. This is for me, my enjoyment; my freedom. My muscles burn as I run, but I continue, the pain spreading like a wildfire to my lungs, heart and brain. We follow the Dauntless out onto the street, down the left hand side and 'round the corner. Then something breaks the muttering, something familiar to those who watch the Dauntless. A train's horn.

**"Oh no," mumbles the Erudite boy. "Are we supposed to hop on that thing?" **

I grin in return, and before Beatrice says anything, he knows the answer. Of course we're going to jump. It's a good thing I watched Dillion leave when he did with the other initiates, it's a good thing I watch the trains, as to see if I can spot him. It's good that I watch the Dauntless, because now I know what to do. We spread along the train lines, just far away from the tracks that we won't get run over by the actually train. The train's made out of steel, like everything else, and as it glides towards us on the steel rails, it's light flashes, and the horn blares once again. The doors of each car as spread open, waiting for the Dauntless. The Dauntless haul themselves on as the train slows down slightly, allowing them to just hop on, but then it's just the initiates, until the Dauntless-born hop on, and then, we have to run. The transfers take a jog, running towards the car, and we take a few steps before throwing ourselves onto the train. I'm fairly short for my age, but I'm fairly strong, so I use my muscled arms to pull myself up, and sit on the edge, taking the hand of those who need a lift and hauling them into the train too. All that's left is an Erudite boy with red hair and Beatrice. I grasp onto her hands, but they're awfully slippery, so a girl from Candor grabs her hand too and we haul her on, but we're too late for the Erudite boy. A girl from his faction tries desperately to catch his hand, but he's too far away now, and he doesn't make it. He falls to his knees next to the tracks and puts his head in his hands. He is Factionless now; he failed Initiation.

"You guys alright?" the Candor girl asks, her voice is brisk, but not unkind. She is tall, with dark hair and skin. Her hair is cut short like mine, and I know I have seen her before. Faction History; I tripped her up on the way by accident, and then she entered the class late with a bruise on the side of her arm. I swallow and nod at her, as does my friend.

"I'm Christina." She introduces, offering us each a hand. We don't shake hands in Abnegation, but I take it anyway, shaking it up and down twice and smiling politely at her. I make sure I didn't hurt her again, and let out a sigh of relief, wheezing to catch my breath.

"Beatrice." She answers, and I hold my hand up for a second to signify for her to give me a moment and I smile.

"Alexandria." I reply as well, pulling my short curls out of the hair do, and letting them fall loose around my shoulders; a Dauntless hair style.

"Do you know where we're going?" Christina shouts over the wind, which blows through the open doors, whipping our hair in our faces and tears our clothes which are loosely worn. I keep my balance by clutching onto the handlebar outside, half in the train, half out, looking around at the scenery. Beatrice sits, and then I realize what she means and I take a seat next to her, one of my legs half dangling out of the train.

"A fast train means wind." She states, and Christina looks confused, so I finish for her.

"Wind means falling out, you'd better get down." I finish, and she nods, sitting next to Beatrice's other side and inching back against the wall.

**"I guess we're going to Dauntless HQ." Beatrice answers the previous question, but then she looks confused, her eyebrows scrunching. "But I have no idea where that is." **

**"Does anyone?" I shake my head, grinning at Christina, who replied. "It's like they just popped out of a hole in the ground or something." **

**Then the wind rushes through the car and the other faction transfers, hit with bursts of wind, fall on top of each other. I watch Christina laugh without hearing her and manage** a small smile, something uncommon.

Outside in the city, the sun is starting to pass over the walls, and the electric fences cast a few strips of sunlight, which glare off of the surrounding buildings, and makes sure I can see the building I used to call home. I look at Beatrice and squeeze her hand. She knows how I feel.

It was my turn to make dinner tonight, I miss making my own food. I wonder who will take my shifts, there's only mum and dad now. Maybe they'll go to communal dinners instead, and not bother cooking without mouths to feed. I never want that feeling.

I close my eyes and imagine my brother sitting at a table, he's fifteen years old, with my sitting next to him, twelve. We are laughing to ourselves, pretending to cough to make it seem less selfish. I miss those times. I miss my brother. I miss everything.

...

**"They're jumping off!"**

I lift my head from Beatrice's shoulder, bringing my numb leg back in from trailing outside. I have been curled up against Beatrice, who in turn was curled against the wall. The wind is calming, which means we are slowing down slightly, and the sun has since gone down. The boy who shouted was right. The Dauntless are throwing themselves out of the train and onto the buildings ahead of us. We are seven stories up.

The idea of leaping out of a jumping train makes me excited, the gap between the tracks and the rood boosts my adrenaline, and I want to go already. The other faction transfers stand in a line, no-one is willing to go first. I step forwards, a grin on my face.

"We have to jump too, then." A large and burly Candor states; she has a large nose and crooked teeth.

"Great," A Candor boy replies, "because that makes perfect sense Molly. Leap off a train onto the roof."

"This is kind of what we signed up for, though, Peter." She points out. She has a point.

"Well, I'm not doing it." Says an Amity boy being me, he has olive skin and wears a brown shirt- he is the only transfer from Amity. His cheeks shine with tears.

"You've got to," Christina shouts over the winds, "or toy fail. Come on, it'll be alright."

"No, it won't! I'd rather be Factionless than dead!" The Amity boy shakes his head. He sound panicky. He keeps shaking his head and staring at the rooftop, which is getting closer every second. I would never agree. I'd rather be dead than living in poverty with the Factionless.

"You can't force him." Beatrice says, glancing at Christina. Her brown eyes are wide, and she presses her lips together so hard they change color. She offers Beatrice her hand. I don't watch any long, I just take it at a run and launch myself off of the train, landing on my feet on the other roof, my ankles feel rubbish, but my body's so pumped I don't care. I watch as Christina and Beatrice land on the roof, rolling in the rubble and gravel on top of the building.

"That was fun." I hear her gasp and I grin. I'm going to like her a lot.

I look around at the other transfers, they're practically all on the floor. Molly, the burley one from Candor, hold her ankle wincing, but Peter is grinning wildly, even though he's sitting on the floor. Maybe he landed on his feet for a second and then fell. That would be funny. I lift the edge of my dress to inspect the damage, also riding up the leggings underneath. I look over to the edge at a wail.

**I turn my head and search for the source, until my eyes land on a Dauntless born. She's standing at the edge, staring at the ground below and screaming, while another Dauntless holds her back, trying to sooth her. He holds her around the waist, trying to calm her down.**

**"Rita," He says, "Rita, calm down. Rita-" **

**I stand and I look over the Edge with Beatrice at my side. There is a body on the pavement below us; a girl, her arms and legs bent at awkward angles, her hair spread in a fan around her head. My stomach sinks a little and I stare at the railroad tracks. Not everyone made it. And even the Dauntless aren't safe.**

I walk away from the edge, trying to think about something else. I watch everyone else. The other Dauntless look solemn; maybe the girl below was their friend; maybe they just passed her in the corridor. After all, I barely know Beatrice, yet I would be upset if she died.

I'm no longer feeling that adrenaline, my mind is focusing on the pain in my ankle, the cuts on my back and my heart yearning to help Rita.

I purse my lips and walk towards Beatrice and Christina again, and sit on the ground; lifting my dress and leggings again to take a look at the ankle. The skin is peeling and it's bleeding pretty badly, but nothing more. Not much harm done.

"Ooh. Scandalous! Stiffs are flashing some skin." I lift my head from my ankle, anger swelling in my chest.

"Stiff" is slang for Abnegation, and it's embarrassing. Peter points to me and Beatrice smirking. He laughs, his group follows. I stand on my good ankle, leaning little pressure on the other.

"Go away." I growl, and head to the front of the group.

"Listen up!" Comes a voice from the building ledge, I turn to face it. "My name is Max." Like my brother. "I am one of the leaders of your new Faction!" Shouts a man at the end of the roof. He is older than us, with deep creases in his dark skin and grey hair at the temples. He stands on the ledge like it's a sidewalk. Like someone didn't just fall to her death from it. "Several stories below is the entrance to our compound. If you can't muster the will to jump off, you don't belong here. Our initiates have the privilege of going first."

"You want us to jump off a ledge?" asks an Erudite girl. She is taller than me, which I don't particularly care about, but she has mousy brown hair and big lips. I think she looks like a fish, especially when she opens her mouth wide and lets her jaw drop. Fish.

"Yes." Max says, looking amused at the situation.

"Is there water at the bottom or something?"

"Who knows?" He raises his eyebrows.

The crowd of initiates splits in half, making a wide path for us. I look around, but nobody seems eager to leap off of a building. I get that. But I want to go. Not first, maybe second. I'm not all too fond of heights. Everyone is trying to act casual, but I know they are just as scared as that Amity boy was of jumping off the train.

Beatrice raises her head and walks towards the edge of the building. She looks tall and proud, even though she is possibly shorter than me. Max steps aside and jumps off of the ledge towards us lot. She walks up to the ledge and looks down. Wind whips through her clothes, making the fabric snap. The building we're on forms one side of a square with three other buildings. In the center of the square is a huge hole in the concrete.

Beatrice looks down at her clothing and starts to unbutton her shirt, fumbling with the collar. She undoes the hooks that corm the collar and pulls the shirt off of her shoulders. Beneath she wears a grey t-shirt. It's tight and makes her look taller and bigger than before. She looks great. She balls up her outer shirt and throws it at Peter. He glares and stares and I give a catcall, laughing at her. She smiled back at my, with a short wave. She bends her knees and jumps.

I take a deep breath and head towards the same hole, hearing her laughter residing from deep down. I sigh. This is going to be torture. I look to watch the others for a second before standing on the ledge as well. I take the same tactic. Taking off the dress I wear, revealing a black vest underneath. The vest isn't mine, something I found which used to be Dillion's. He left it at my house. I throw the dress into the wind. Symbolizing my freedom. My leggings are also black. I look Dauntless. I throw myself off of the building. The wind howls in my ears and for a moment, I feel like I'm flying. I feel free. The hole quickly approaches and I close my eyes, dropping into the darkness.

I hit something as I wheeze for a second, coughing. It gives way below me and allows me to bounce back up once, twice, and then settles. I'm lying one giant net. A big black woven net.

I look up and see the speckled dots of the others. I laugh, uncontrollably, covering my face with my hand to stop looking at what I just did. I juts followed another Abnegation off of a roof. What am I doing?

I see hands stretching out to me across the edge of the net, a pair of them I recognize as Beatrice's. I smile happily and make my way across the net, jumping off the edge. Apparently that's not normal, as there is someone there ready to catch me if I fall.

I push my short blonde curls from my face, trying to keep the bangs from slipping into my eyeliner. The one waiting to help is a young man, he looks around two, maybe three years older than us. He has a spare upper lip, and a full lover lip. His eyes are deep-set, so much that his eyelashes touch the skin under his eyebrows, they are dark blue. I recognize him slightly, maybe I saw him at the Choosing Ceremony a few years ago. I don't know. He just looks familiar.

"Can't believe it." A voice says, it's female and it's behind him. She looks at me and Beatrice standing together. She mustn't have had a chance to talk yet, because she seems scared. I squeeze her shoulder, which makes her less tense. "Two Stiffs. The two first jumpers." She smirks at us, and I glare back. She looks taken aback.

"There's a reason why they left them, Lauren." He replies, and I can see Beatrice is smitten already. I have to admit, he is pretty damn hot. "Names?" He asks, looking between us, I can see he's confused. We look quite alike, except for the eye color and face shape, we could be twins.

"Um..." Beatrice starts, but she hesitates. I know why, Beatrice is way too Abnegation.

"Think about it." He intrudes my thoughts. "You don't get to pick again. And what about you?" He turns to me and I grin, I already know.

"Lex." I reply shortly, and he nods, turning to Beatrice.

"What about you, Stiff?" He asks, and she tenses again.

"Tris." She says firmly, and I smile, nodding. I like it.

"Tris." Lauren repeats. "And Lex." She grins, and turns to the man. "Make the announcement, Four."

The boy-Four-looks over his shoulder, and then turns. "Our first and second jumpers. Tris and Lex!" He shouts. Someone looks at us weirdly.

"How can you announce them both at the same time?" He asks, his eyes are dark, but he has soft brown hair.

"They jumped minutes apart from each other. And they're brave enough to go first." He replies, and a crowd materializes from the darkness. I would be scared if I wasn't so comfortable here already. They cheer and pump their fists into the air. Another person drops onto the net. It must be a record. One "Stiff" jumps, and then another straight after. Then no-one else for a good ten minutes. The person dropping into the net lets her screams follow her down, and then hysteric laughter. I turn to Tris and grin. Everyone laughs, and then cheers for her.

Four sets his hands on our shoulders and I smile.

"Welcome to Dauntless."


	7. Chapter 7 Part I

**This is only part one of two for Chapter Seven, and it's just because the whole chapter felt too long to wring into one, so here we go. Chapter Seven Part I.**

**Standard Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent, only my OCs.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**When all the initiates stand on solid ground again, Lauren and Four lead us down a narrow tunnel. The walls are made of stone, and the ceiling slopes, so I feel like I am descending deep into the heart of the Earth. The tunnel is lit at long intervals, so in the dark space between each dim lamp, I fear that I am lost until a shoulder bumps into mine. In the circles of light I am safe again.**

In front of me, the Candor boy stops abruptly, causing my face to smash into his shoulder blade, a chain reaction from this, including an Erudite boy and Tris. I stumble backwards into the Erudite's chest and blush deeply, hoping he can't see me. I wipe little blood away from my nose from the impact and apologize for staining his clothes. He doesn't care.

"This is where we divide, Initiates." Lauren states, looking bored. "The Dauntless-born initiates are with me. I assume you don't need a tour of the place." She scans over the crowd and glares at those who are laughing. "Come on losers." She continues, and they follow after her, smiling and breaking away from the large group. They seem to dissolve into the shadows of another tunnel. I watch the last strand of hair and heel leave the light, and I turn to those who are left. Most of the initiates are Dauntless, so there are only ten of us left, including me and Tris. We are the only two from Abnegation (no surprises there) and none from Amity. The rest are Erudite and Candor. It must require a lot of bravery to be honest all the time. It's brutal/

Four turns to us, his dark blue eyes scanning the crowds.

"Most of the time I work in the control room, but for the next few weeks, I am your instructor." He glances again, and catches my eye. "My name is Four."

Christine gives a slight snort, but manages to cover it into a sniff. "Four? Like the number?"

"Yes. Exactly like the number." He replies, no humor in his eyes. "Is there a problem?" He asks, and she shrugs.

"No." She has a death wish. I am sure of it now.

"Good. We're about to go into the Pit, which you will someday learn to love. It-" Christina snickers, and this time, she doesn't make a job of covering it up.

"The Pit? Clever name." Four walks right up to Christina and leans his face right up close to hers. She shivers, leaning away. His eyes are narrow, and hers are wide. He stares at her for just a second and then glares.

"What's your name?" He asks quietly, deadly almost. The room is silent.

"Christina." She squeaks, hiding her fear under a cool level; at least that's what she thinks.

"Well, Christina, if I wanted to put up with Candor's smart-mouths, I would have joined their faction. The first lesson you will learn from me is to keep your mouth shut." He hisses, drawing away from her, and she nods stiffly. "Go that?" She nods again, this time with more confidence. He starts into the shadows ahead, the initiated move in silence, me moving to meet Christina and Tris at the back.

"What a jerk." She mumbles, and I let out a laugh; hardly able to contain myself.

"I guess he doesn't like to be laughed at." I shrug, trying to keep cool. That encounter almost reminded me of Marcus, the look in his eyes, the quiet in his voice before he beat me to a pulp with his belt. Especially the buckle. I involuntarily let a shiver down my back, crossing my arms. It would probably be wise to be careful around someone like Four. He seems placid on the platform, but something about him wearies me now. I don't like him.

Four pushes a set of heavy double doors open and lets the light flood into the room, the glass roof letting in light, as well as the blue orbed torches.

"Oh, I get it now. The Pit." Christina whispers, and I just nod, taking in the scenery. I never imagined myself in a place like this.

"The Pit" is the best term for what I see before me. It's almost like an underground cavern so huge that it's nearly impossible to see the other end, or even see where it leads. Uneven rock walls surround the center, rising several stories high above our heads. Built into the stone walls are places, little crevices for food and clothing; other supplies are near to rolling off the edge too. Narrow paths and steps are carved from the rock into the walls, making it almost like a leisurely climb at the beach. The are no barriers here, nothing to stop a fall from the edge.

A slant of orange light stretches across one of the walls. I look to the glass panes above, and realize that this was one of the buildings on the way it. The Dauntless have dug underneath. Very well played. The building's roof allows strips of sunlight into the Pit and into our vision. It looks magnificent. The blue orbs of light hang at random looking intervals above the stone walls and paths, and I realize they look similar to the ones in the Choosing room. They seem to grow brighter as the light dies from the sun.

People little the halls and floor everywhere, all dressed in black; shouting and talking. This is where belong. There aren't any people over the age of forty or fifty maybe. Are there even old Dauntless? Do they get sent away or killed when they aren't of use anymore?

A group of small children, similar to the ones I encountered yesterday from Amity, run along the narrow edges and paths, there is no railing. I see Tris clench at seeing them, and I can see she wants them to slow down, but I don't. Let them have the fun we never got as children. The thrill. I laugh slightly when one pushes the other off of the path, but she clings onto the side, and pulls herself back up, running and jumping on the boy's back. They're just like me and Max. We were just like that when we were younger. Just a lot more safe.

"If you follow me," says Four, "I will show you the chasm."

He waves us forwards. Four looks quite tame from the front, now that I think about it. He holds something intriguing, something familiar about him, but when he turns around; me and Tris nod to each other, spotting it at the same time. A tattoo peaks out of his collar at the back. He leads us to the right side of the Pit, which is conspicuously dark. I see Tris squint to see in the darkness, but I am used to being shunned into the darkness at random points of the day, so I adjust easily. The floor now ends, there is a barrier made of thick iron bars. As we approach this railing, I hear the rush of fast-moving water. It crashes against the rocks above and below, and I clench my jaw. I hate running water.

I watch as Tris looks over the side, and then back at me. She motions me over, and I walk to her, taking in the scene below. The floor drops at a sharp angle, something that encourages me to stay away from the edge. Several stories below is a fast-flowing river, and as the water strikes the walls on the ground, the spray hits my face. Above us and to the right is a waterfall, the water battling with the rock. It is calmer to the left, not so much noise or terror. I will stick to the left; I decide.

"The chasm reminds us that there is a fine line between bravery and idiocy." Four shouts over the noise of the waterfall. "A daredevil jump off of this ledge and it will end your life. It happened before and it will happen again. You have been warned." He finishes and I zone out, turning to the rushing water. The sight of it scares me, yet calms me in a way that I don't understand. I hate water. Always have.

I turn my head in time to see the initiates exit through a hole to the side, I jog and catch up with the last members of the group, looking over their shoulders and ahead to the room in front. It is a massive opening in the rock, and inside I can see long tables, much like the ones in the cafeteria back home. A dining hall. When we walk in, the Dauntless inside stand and they applaud, stamping their feet and shouting. The noise is welcoming, something strange as well. I scan the room, looking for an empty table for me, Tri and Christina. We discover a mostly empty table at the side of the room. Unfortunately, I find myself squished between Christina and a young boy from Dauntless, perhaps he's a year or two older than me. Tris finds herself sandwiched between Christina and Four. Maybe she's afraid.

I turn to the food, and I see some food I recognize from something I read in a book or something at school. I recognize the meat as beef, but other than that, I don't know what to do with it, but I get the gist from what everyone else is doing. So I spoon some sauce onto it, and take a bit with some bread. It tastes pretty good.

I may like it here more that I previously thought. My thoughts then turn away from the food, and to the boy sitting next to me. He is quiet, and very self-kept. He has his face turned away from me and the others, looking down the table, fixating his eyes on some food. I tilt my head to the side to get a better angle of him, but he must have sensed the change, and quickly shifts, knocking me out of my chair. Tris, Christina and Four snap out of their conversation about Stiffs and our food choices, and Christina moves to help me up, but the boy gets there first.

"Sorry, but you should keep your eyes to yourself, Stiff." He remarks before pulling me up. I roll my eyes and glare at him. Behind me, Four chuckles.

"First day with the new initiates and you're already making them fall for you, Leo." He shakes his head, taking his seat again, and Tri follows, allowing Christina to help me to my seat.

"Thanks for nothing." I hiss at the boy's head, and he turns to me, about to make a snide remark, when his eyes fall on the necklace I am wearing. It's something Dillion gave to me, it's made out of beads we found in Natalie Prior's sewing kit, and the middle is a black stone that we found on the train tracks out where the Dauntless were running. It must have come off a bracelet, because it looped into the necklace perfectly. I push it under the vest I borrowed from Dill's closet and glare, which he returns and stalks off to sit b that food he was staring at earlier. Jerk.

The room falls silent as the doors open and a young man walks in. It is so silent that I hear his footsteps and the slight crunch as he steps on some glass, or food. His face is totally pierced, but it suits him and his black eyes, darker than the chasm floor. His hair is long and dark, and terribly greasy.

"Who's that?" Christina asks, hissing slightly, and Four sighs.

"His name is Eris. He's a Dauntless leader." Four replies, stabbing his food with his fork.

"Seriously?" I ask, not believing someone like that could make a good ruler.

"But he's so young." Christina finishes her question from earlier.

"Age doesn't matter here." Four gives her a grave look, and she looks down, blushing slightly. I can tell that she's about to ask what me and Tris want to ask. _Then what does matter?_ Eric's since stopped scanning the room, and his eyes have fallen on us. He strides towards our table and takes the seat that, well Four called him Leo, so Leo left.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" he asks, nodding to Christina, me and Tris.

Four stiffens and replies. "Tris, Christina and Alexandria." I glare at him for a moment and then turn to Eric.

"It's Lex." I retort, turning back to my food. Now I'm the one stabbing it with my fork. I'm sure I don't actually need a fork for this. But what the hell, might as well utilize what I have.

"Ooh, two Stiffs. And a feisty one too." He puts his hand on my neck and I try to inch away, but he holds me in my place. "We'll see how long you'll last." His hand tightens on the back of my neck, and it's also my turn to stiffen.

"Long enough to get rid of that stupid nickname." I mutter, pushing the food around with the fork.

"What was that?" He asks, but he doesn't get an answer out of me, as Leo plops himself back down opposite us. His knuckles are pure white, like he's been holding onto something for too long. Tris looks shocked at me, and embarrassed about Eric.

"What you been doing lately, Four, Eric?" He asks, trying to casually slip the attention away from us and onto a new topic.

"Nothing, really." He replies, lifting a shoulder in a shrug. "You?" He asks, and when they lock eyes, I see something. They look similar. They both have the same build, same hair color and eye shape. Their eye colors are slightly different, Leo's eyes are lighter, more playful, while Four's are deep-set and sunken. They are related.

"Nothing much either." He replies the same way, with a shrug.

"Well this is fun." Eric rolls his eyes, and I wonder how he lives like that, with so many piercings. I can tell that him and the other two aren't friends right off, they are too hostile, like the dog from the aptitude test. Eric and Four seem like rivals, enemies even. While it just seems that Leo has been caught in the fight and forced to pick a side. I'd side with Four, he looks way less dangerous.

I zone out looking at Leo again. He's watching Tris and Christina, evaluating them maybe, and when his eyes flick to me, I look down, when his eyes pass, I train mine on his face again. He has some nice features. Not nearly as good looking as some of the other Dauntless I've seen, but he has a kind nature to him too; his eyes are kinder. He reminds me of home. Strict but loving and kind. That's what it is. He reminds me of Abnegation. When I look back to Four and Tris, Eric is gone, his hand no long on the small of my back; his breath no longer on my neck. I hate him already.

"Are you two... friends?" Tris asks, unable to contain her curiosity.

"We were in the same initiate class, he transferred from Erudite." He states, but doesn't answer the question.

"Were you a transfer too?" I am only aware that the words came from my mouth after they have left and everyone is staring at me. I stammer over my next sentence. "I didn't meant to be personal." I manage to choke out and he rolls his eyes, his look cold and stony.

"I thought I would only have trouble with Candor asking too many questions, but now I have Stiffs too?" He asks coldly. I shiver a little, and it seems that Leo noticed, and he smirks at me.

"It must be because you're so approachable." Tris rolls her eyes and replied flatly. "You know, like a bed of nails?" She finished, sarcastically. I snort into my hand, and manage to turn it into a cough. How did I manage Candor on the aptitude?

He stares at Tris and doesn't look away. She is avoiding his eyes. Like a dog. She has red cheeks but it doesn't look like a blush, more of an embarrassment.

"Careful, Tris." He simply states, and gets up, leaving. He leaves us with Leo, awkwardly sitting there.

"So, who are you?" Christina asks, and I slam my head into the table. _Kill me now._

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**_Thanks_ for reading, and I would really appreciate a R&R. So review please. It means a lot to get some feedback, even if it is constructive (please no flames). Have a great Easter Sunday!**


	8. Chapter 7 Part II

**Hey guys :) Here for another update! Sorry for the long waits in between chapters, but it is so hard for me to update with my school work, dance exams and everything in between (and I'm running out of chapters to post, so I better start writing!)**

**So hopefully we'll have another one soon!**

**Standard Disclaimer: Don't own Divergent! I'm not VR! I own my OCs and the story original writing.**

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**Chapter Seven: Part II**

**After dinner, Four disappears without a word to any of us. Eric leads us down a series of hallways without telling us where we're going. I don't understand why a Dauntless leader would be responsible for group so low down like us, initiates. Maybe it's just for tonight.**

**At the end of each hallway is a blue lamp, but between them it's dark.** I am careful and swift, making sure I never trip over or **stumble on uneven ground.** Christina and Tris walk on either side of me; they are silent. In fact, everyone is silent. No one has been told to be quiet, but none of us are ready to speak.

**Eric stops in front of a wooden door and folds his arms. We gather around him.**

**"For those of you who don't know, my name is Eric."** He says, his cold chasm of eyes gliding over the group and stopping on me. **"I am one of the five leaders of the Dauntless. We take initiation processes very seriously here, so I volunteered to oversee most of your training."**

I try and keep my eyes away from his, to stop the fear of him and his pierced stone of a face. The thought of him overseeing me, us, makes me sick and nauseous. The fact that it is Eric, rather than another leader, makes this thought repulse.

**"Some ground rules." He grumbles,** turning his eyes away from mine. **"You have to be IN the training room by eight o'clock every day. Training takes place every day from eight to six, with a break for lunch. You are free to do whatever you like after six. You will also get time off between each stage of initiation."** He finishes his mini-speech and it rolls over us like a wave of cold ocean water. Drowning. The phrase "do whatever you want" sticks to me like glue. I want to find Dillion, and maybe Tobias. I don't really know yet. I want to know they are still here.

**"You are only permitted to leave this compound when accompanied by a Dauntless."** He adds, swiftly after his first speech, keeping it raw in our minds. "**Behind this door is the room where you will be sleeping for the next few weeks. You will notice there are ten beds** and there are only enough beds for the ten of you." His eyes stop on me again and he glares slightly.

"But we started with, like, thirteen." protects Christina. Tris closes her eyes, waiting to see if Christina gets shouted at. But nothing. She still needs to learn to stay quiet.

**"There is always at least one transfer that doesn't make it to the compound. **To be honest, we were only expecting to have nine of you to show up." R**eplies Eric, picking at his cuticles. He shrugs lightly. "Anyway, in the first stage of initiation, we keep transfers and Dauntless-born initiates separate, but that doesn't mean you are evaluated separately. At the end of initiation, your rankings will be determined in comparison with the Dauntless-born initiates. And they are much better than you are already. So I expect-"** The mousy haired girl from Erudite wheezes and then looks up in horror.

**"Rankings?"** She asks, she seems to not know everything, as I originally thought about Erudite. **"Why are we ranked?"** She asks, her eyes are narrowed at the leader, like mine earlier. Eric simply gives a smile, but not one you would give your friend. One someone would give prey when about to attack. In the blue lighting, he looks wicked, like it was cut into his face with a knife.

**"Your ranking serves two purposes."** He says, the grin kept on his face like a Cheshire Cat. **"The first is that it determines the order in which you select a job after initiation. There are only a few desirable positions available."** I clench my hands tightly, avoiding the smile on his lips, the cold look in his eyes.

**"The second purpose, is that only the top ten initiates are made members." He says, and a pain stabs me** in the heart. We all stand still, the breathing being the only sound in he room.

**"There are ten Dauntless-born initiates, and ten of you." He reminds us. "Four initiates will be cut at the end of stage one. The remainder will be cut after the final tests. There will be no cuts during the second stage. It is more for preparation."** He explains. It finally sinks in. If we make it through round one, six will not be members. I look at Tris, who is avoiding mine and Christina's gaze. She's staring at Eric, her eyes fixated, her pupils small and angry.

**"What do we do if we are cut?"** Peter, the lump and evil boy, asks.

**"You leave the Dauntless compound and live Factionless."** He replies, as if it was the most normal thing to hear. The mousy haired Erudite clamps her hand over her mouth and refrains from a sob. I simply looks down at the ground, shuffling my feet. The Factionless are needy, they need help from Abnegation. I would never let my family see me like that. I am determined to be made a member.

**"But that's... not fair!"** Molly shouts; she sounds angry, her face contorted, but she looks terrified. She's scared like the rest of us. **"If we had known-"** She starts, but Eric cuts her off, angry now.

**"Are you saying that if you had known before the Choosing Ceremony, you wouldn't have chosen Dauntless?" Eric snaps. "Because if that's the case, you should get out now. If you really are one of us, it won't matter to you that you might fail. And if it does, you are a coward."**

Eric pushes the dormitory doors open, looking inside for a second before he turns back to us.

**"You chose us. Now we have to choose you."** He states simply, walking inside.

...

I lie in bed, listening to nine other people breathing. I have never slept in the same room as a boy before, well at least not a boy I haven't met before. I slept in the same room as Dillion once, when his father was in the City for an overnight meeting. His breathing calmed me, this breathing makes me anxious. Everyone has already changed into the clothes that the Dauntless provided us, but I stay in Dillion's black vest and my grey trousers. I removed my shoes before I slept, I stripped my socks as well. But I feel safe in his clothes.

I look over at the bunk opposite me. That bunk holds Tris inside. She's sure awake. I knew she would be, it makes sense. She covers her mouth with her hand, and I know why. She's trying not to cry. I personally don't are about my old family. They're a distant memory to me now. I couldn't care less.

I think about life in Dauntless. It'll be clear and free, I can look in the mirror whenever I like, I can laugh and fight and beat people up without a look of judgment. I like it here already, even though Eric scares the crap out of me. I'm not going to show my fear. I am going to hide me Divergence, my pain and my anger behind a good fight.

As my eyes slowly close to drift off into sleep, a strangled sound interrupts all of the breathing, followed by a heavy sob. Bed springs croak and squeal as a large body turns, somewhere to my left. A pillow muffles a sob and a groan. I can't tell them apart from anyone else's. It's not strange to hear an initiate cry.

I want to get up, and help the person who's crying, but I can see Tris is refraining, trying to bite down her Abnegation, and I can see that too. I don't want to show that I am weak and willing to help anyone. I want to be brave and strong. I want to be Dauntless. I will not be shown as weak.

I swallow the lump in my throat and turn away from whoever it is. When I close my eyes again, I am younger, more youthful. I see Dillion ahead of me, he's smiling and laughing; before Marcus beat him to a pulp. He didn't smile after that. I watch him bow his head ta my mother, and then chase after his brother; Tobias. Jumping on his back, they both are sent tumbling to the ground; laughing. I giggle. This is a time I want to go back to.

I am about to fall back into my childhood when Al sobs again. I nearly scream in frustration and get out of bed, heading for the bathroom. It looks like I'm not getting any more sleep tonight. As I get into the bathroom, I realize that I have come in with nothing but a t-shirt and trousers. No training gear, no towel. I growl in frustration and briskly stomp back into the room, picking up a towel, a black vest-top which suits me perfectly, and a pair of black track suits/leggings. They are a mix of both, and it fascinates me. I take all of this and a bra and head into the bathroom, allowing the water to consume me. I will not get any more sleep tonight.

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**Well here's another chapter. Sorry it's quite short, it was intended to be a long chapter, but it was all that was left of Chapter Seven. **

**There is a lot of bold here, and as you know, that is original content from the books (bar any grammar or spelling mistakes, please correct me if I do). **

**This isn't so much an original chapter so much as a filler for the next few, but it's still a good read. **

**Hopefully another chapter coming your way soon,**

**Peace and Love,**

**Lisa xxx**


	9. Chapter 8

**And it's Lisa here, back for another chapter! One for now, and then exams are coming up soon, so I am really busy, so this may be the last one for a while. I would really like some more reviews, so if I can get up to five then I will post the next chapter before my exams. I hope you guys actually like this story, and if you do LET ME KNOW. Favourite or follow, send me a message, review. Anything. If you don't want to send it to me on this, then email me at rainb0wunic0rngamer **

**Thanks for reading and sticking with me.**

**Standard Disclaimer: I don't own Divergent, I am not VR. If I was all those characters wouldn't have died and the ending to Allegiant (which I hate so much :( )**

**Please R&R**

**Lisa xxx**

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**Chapter Eight**

Obviously, I am awake before anyone else. I was probably awake before the instructors themselves thanks to someone's sobbing. Honestly, you chose Dauntless, so brave it up. Before anyone else, I am down at breakfast, the vest stop cut and cropped until some of my belly shows when training. I am so glad that I have a toned and very flat stomach.

I am in the dining hall for about twenty minutes before the first person enters the hall. They look around, a tired look on their face, and then plop down in the seat next to me, rubbing their eyes and then staring me in the face.

"What are you doing down here this early, Stiff?" He asks, his light blue eyes unfocused and glassy. I laugh lightly, and he glares, covering his ears.

"Couldn't sleep. Someone was sobbing very loudly and made it impossible to actually get any sleep done. So I went for a run, took some time in Training and then came here. It's silent. Too silent for me." I reply, rolling my eyes at his attitude. I grab a muffin off of the counter top as everyone starts to file in, realizing that it may be a good time to go back to the dormitory and clean myself up a bit before training starts.

"Be careful, Stiff, you may not be awake enough to fight today." His blue eyes connect to my emerald ones and a glare a little. Leo is not worth my time in the morning.

...

"Today will be the day you will learn how to shoot a gun. Then we'll do is winning a fight." Four presses guns into each palm, not bothering to even look at us as he does. "Thankfully, if you are here, you already know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don't need to teach you that." He rolls his eyes and I am not surprised. The Dauntless expect us to be great at these things. It's too bad us lot from Abnegation have never even seen a real gun in our lives. That would be better.

"Initiation is divided into three stages. We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. The stags are not weighed equally in determining your final rank, so it is possible, though difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time." He keeps jabbering on about the ranking system, but I don't care. I stare at the gun in my hands., just holding it feels wrong and dangerous. Yet it feels so right, it feels great.

"We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as the failure to act in the midst of fear," Four continues, and now I listen, the tale is getting better. "Therefore each stage of initiation is intended to prepare you in a different way. The first stage is primary physical, the second is primarily emotional; the third is primarily mental." He finished, and sweeps over the crowd, checking for any questions, or anyone without a gun.

Peter yawns and starts a sentence.

"But what..." He yawns again, through his words, and covers his mouth. "What does firing a gun have to do with... bravery?" He asks, and I almost snort, but I am glad I don't. Four flips the gun in his hand and presses the barrel to Peter's forehead, it clicks the bullet into place. Peter freezes, his lips slightly parted, his eyes wide. The yawn dies on his lips.

"Wake. Up." Four snaps. "You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it." He hisses, and lowers the gun away from Peter's head. As much as I hate him, I am relieved when the gun is pulled away from his head. He's stupid.

Once the immediate threat is gone, Peter's green eyes harden. His eyes are like mine in the way they look and work. His narrow the same as mine. I am quite surprised he isn't like me when talking either; he hasn't spoken his mind yet. After speaking his mind all of his life in Candor, I am also surprised he didn't respond.

"And to answer your question... you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you're prepared to defend yourself." Four stops walking when he reaches the end of the row, and turns on his heels. "This is also information you may need later in stage one. So, watch me."

He faces the wall with targets stuck on - one square of plywood with three red circles on it for each of us. He stands with his feet apart, holds the gun in both hands and fires. The bang is so loud, it vibrates through my being, leaving me feeling excited, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I jump above the crowds to look at the target, and I don't know why I am surprised that it hits the target dead center. He has been here for two years. I turn to my own target now, the others sweeping to theirs.

If my brother could see my now, he would be grinning, telling me to get a move on and shoot the damn thing. If my mother was here, she would hit me, reprimand me. If my father was here, he would turn in a second into Marcus Eaton, and beat me to a pulp. I should not be holding a gun. But I don't care.

Everyone is firing the gun already, but I need to know what I am holding before I shoot. I take the gun in my hand and hold it to my face; it is hard to lift, but I like it that way. More of a challenge. I take it apart, piece by piece, and then fix it back together, seeing how it works internally. I am ready to shoot. Everyone's reloading and out of bullets, I haven't even started yet.

I take the gun, and hold it close to me, using one of my hands to shield my body from the recoil, and using the other to pull the trigger and hold the weight. I haven't even started yet. I gently squeeze the trigger, enough pressure to make the bullet shoot from the gun, but not tight enough to hurt my finger when pulling. The bullet seems to go in slow motion, as it moves towards and hits the target, just outside the middle ring. I just have to know what I am holding. I grin to myself, and try again; same accuracy, different positioning. The bullet slices through the left side. I try again; and again, and the bullet never seems to get any closer, until the last bullet in my magazine. I know it's worth a shot, and Four's telling us to put down our weapons, but I take the final shot anyway, and it soars through the air, hiding dead center. I was right. I had to believe I could.

I turn towards the crowd, and they're all watching me now; they've all put their weapons down and have stopped. I drop the gun onto the railing and fold my arms; they're sore from holding the gun but I don't care.

Four looks like he's going to reprimand me, but instead smirks.

"Take note from her accuracy here. You could use it." He directs this mostly to Tris, and I grin at her. She's having trouble.

...

We head down to lunch, from the top floor, to the bottom. I don't sit with my friends, or Tris. I plop down in an empty seat down the end of the tables, making sure there's no-one around. I massage my arms and unclench my fists. I was imagining the target was Marcus. That's why I shot the last one so well, and the thought of him makes me murderous. I hate Marcus Eaton.

I take a plate from the center of the table and spoon some peas and carrots onto my plate, and then take some bread and some type of processed meat, making a sandwich for myself, but I stick to Abnegation rules still, plain foods only; so I add nothing else.

I take a bite, and feel someone sit next to me, and then another opposite me, and I take the bite, chewing carefully before turning to whoever sat with me. On my right is Leo, and opposite me is Eric. I don't want to talk to either of them.

"I hear you're a good shot, Stiff. How'd you manage that?" Eric asks, his eyes concentrated on him, as though I cheated.

"I took the gun apart, put it back together, bang. Shot the target. Hit every shot on the middle ring until the last shot. Got that one dead center." I reply, shrugging every now and again. "No big deal. And besides, I want some peace." I retort, and then hold my tongue. I just snapped at Eric, the leader. He just laughs it off, a cold and cruel laugh. Empty. It scares me slightly.

"I like you, Stiff, you've got character." And with that, he ups and leaves, sitting with some other Seniors across the hall and away from me. I sigh in relief, and allow Leo to stay. I hate him, but he's quiet.

I continue ti eat, sneaking glances at the boy next to me every now and again. The hall was empty when us initiates got here, did he have to sit by me? Was it a dare? Or as a Senior, did he feel like he had to make sure Eric did nothing stupid. He may not have authority over him, but maybe Leo can be scary?

I don't know, I just continue to eat, and when I'm done, I get up and head to the meeting area for training. I am early, I can tell because even Four isn't here yet, so I head back to the guns and start to fire them. They're heavy again, and my arms throb. But I don't stop, they're exhilarating. I'm hitting the target dead center now. I know I have accomplished.

I put the gun down and walk back over to the meeting point as the others start to trail in, and Four walks through a back entrance. It seems he was there the whole time. He beckons for us to follow, and he leads us to a new room. It's massive, with a wooden floor that is cracked and creaky and has big circles painted in the middle. One the left wall is a green board. I almost don't recognize it, it's been so long. But it is a chalk-board. My Lower Levels teacher had one, she never used it though, preferred to talk and then hand out paper. Maybe it's a Dauntless problem with technology, or maybe they've just never gotten rid of it.

Our names are written on the board in alphabetical order.. First names, obviously, I never let anyone see my last name anymore. Hanging at around three foot intervals along one end of the room are faded black and red punching bags.

We line up behind them, and Four stands in the middle of the room, where we can all see him.

"As I said this morning," says Four. "next you will learn how to fight. The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to respond to threats and challenges- which you will need, if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless." I looks down at my body. I am tiny, with little muscle in my arms, but strength in my legs from running every day. I am exhausted today, I didn't get any sleep.

"We will go over technique today, and tomorrow you will start to fight each other." Says Four, and I stop listening, even though I'm sure he's lecturing us about paying attention, all I can think about is punching Molly in the face, or Peter or anyone else who's picked on Tris. I turn my attention back to him, and he's showing us a style of punching. Four names a few different punches, demonstrating each one as he does, first against the air and then against the punching bag.

I start of straight away, my arms weak and sore, but I continue, hitting the punching bag with brutal strength. I see the others starting to catch on to the technique, and starting to add as much power as me. I watch and listen to the area, listening to skin on leather. It brings me peace, and I draw in a breath, cracking my knuckles and landing a blow which sends the bag rocking. I love it.

Four is pacing the floor., he is watching us with great intent, and he looks as though he wants to help me with my arm technique, as I have no muscle, but I am doing great; Tris however is not the same story.

He walks over to her, rolling his eyes and trying to help her keep posture and stance. His eyes look her over, analyzing, calculating, and then he holds her. But to keep her tension, he presses a hand to her stomach. His fingers and long and more tanned than Tris, so they stand out on her pale skin. His hands cover most of her torso, and I can finally see how tiny she is. He lifts his hand after a moment or two, and walks on. I watch her as she gets breathless. This is something I will be teasing her about later.

When Four dismisses us for dinner, I follow after Christina and Tris; walking besides them.

"I'm surprised he didn't break you in half," She says, and then wrinkles her nose. "He scares the hell out of me. It's that quiet voice he uses." She trails off, and looks at Tris, she wasn't scared by the voice, she was infatuated.

"Yeah. He's..." She looks over her shoulder, right at him; he spots her as she turns back. "...definitely intimidating." She finally answers, and I smirk, she isn't intimidated. The boy who was sobbing last night turns to us once we reach the put and announces something odd, and something that doesn't seem to be like him at all.

"I want a tattoo." I have stopped short of Christina and Tris, and speak up.

"Of what, exactly?" I ask, and Christina turns to me, wide-eyed.

"And the Lex finally spoke." She rolls her eyes as I shove her, into the Pit room properly.

"Shove off, Chris." I reply, blushing slightly, and turning back to the boy.

"I don't know." He laughs, and it is sort of contagious, I laugh too. "I just want to feel like I've actually left the old faction. Stop crying about it." I freeze, he just admitted to it. "I know you've heard me." He adds, and I relax a little, he's not accusing us of listening, he's simply stating a fact.

"Yeah, learn to quieten down, will you Al?" Chris pokes his arm, and lets him know she's joking. "I think you're right. We're half in, half out right now. If we want all the way in, we should look the part." I look at Tris, who's shaking her head lightly.

"No. I will not cut my hair, or dye it a strange color or pierce my face." She replies quickly, and I grin.

"How about the belly button?" Christina asks, and she shakes her head, while I'm quite enthusiastic.

"Or your nipple?" Will asks rhetorically with a snort and I shove him over.

"That's wrong, Will, stop thinking about our nipples." Tris groans and Christina starts to pull her away, and I know what to do. "We'll meet you at the tattoo parlor, I think Christina is going to drag me and Tris to get more clothes." I manage to get out, before Christina stomps back over and drags me along too.

She drags us along the paths, stumbling above the Pit floor, climbing higher and higher, in an attempt to get to the clothing. We scatter shoes with our stones, and I occasionally hear a small groan when one hits someone below.

"What's wrong with our clothes?" Tris complains, looking down. "We're not wearing grey anymore."

"They're ugly and gigantic, and don't show off enough." She adds, with a pointed look at me. "You two are gorgeous, you have great figures, now will you just let me help you? If you don't like what I push you into, you never have to wear it again. I promise." She looks at me pleadingly and I roll my eyes nodding. I will do this for her.

"Fine, but I told the boys we'd meet them there, so you'd better hurry." I tell her, and she squeals, hugging me. Ten minutes later, me and Tris stand side-by-side in front of a large mirror in the clothing place. She wears a knee-length black dress, and I am wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, a red wrap-around top, which is cropped to show my stomach and a black leather jacket, with no sleeves. It looks great. It looks Dauntless. Tris's dress looks amazing on her, it's not like the first one, which stuck to her legs like glue and made her look smaller than she already is. Christina first slips Tris's hair out of the hair tie and then braids it intricately. She then turns to my hair and pulls it out of the bun, seeing it natural for the first time in ages. I shake my hair out, and the curls bounce around my chin.

She looks at me in the eyes and holds up a black pencil. It's eyeliner, I can tell.

"Eyeliners." She states for Tris's purposes, and holds it close to my face, working her magic with it. I resist the urge to roll my eyes as she multi-tasks talking and doing my eye.

"You aren't going to be able to make me look pretty, you know." Beatrice states, and I snort. She doesn't understand how pretty she really is. She closes her eyes when Christina is done with my eyes and moves over to Tris'. I am not ready to look in the mirror.

"Who cares about pretty? I'm going for noticeable." She replies, and pulls back from her face. "Perfect."

I nod to Tris and we turn to the mirror, looking in at the same time. I feel like I am about to get hit for looking in the mirror for too long; for staring at myself. But I don't care, I am breaking my old faction's rules, nothing more. I love the way I am breaking some rules, but not really breaking any at all.

My eyes were emerald before, but now I see flicks of blue and brown inside my eyes. I am a mix, just like my aptitude. The eyeliner makes my eyes look menacing and evil, like Eric; but still hold my true nature within my eyes. My hair is less curly now that it usually is, probably because it's been tied up for ages. They make me look even more Dauntless. I can fully say, in a very vane way, that I look stunning. I love it. My outfit mixed with my look makes me look like I've been here for years, minus one thing. The tattoos. But I intend to fix that tonight.

Looking at me now, I don't feel like Alexandria Meredith Manx. I feel like Lex Manx, the Dauntless.

"See, you two look striking!" She compliments and I grin to myself, the hole in my heart for Dauntless doesn't seem bare anymore, it's filed with these lot, and my memories. It feels great.

"I look like a different person." Tris comments, and I shrug, looking different, but not that far; though I can see where she is coming from. She IS striking. It's beautiful.

"That a good thing or bad thing?" Chris asks, and Tris laughs, and it looks like she's thinking.

"A good thing." She shakes her head. "Sorry, but we've never been allowed to stare at our reflection this long."

"It's great." I add, and we wrap our arms around Christina, thanking her.

"Let's go watch Al get tattooed." Tris grins and grabs my hand, and then I grab Christina's. They both drag me along to the tattoo parlor, as I am so tired that I can barely keep up with them.

At home, just like Tris would have, me and my mother picked up nearly identical stacks of clothing every six months. It's easy to allocate resources when everyone gets the same thing, but everything is more varied at Dauntless. Every Dauntless gets a certain amount of points to spend per month. The dress and the outfit cost one each; adding an extra for the jacket, we leave.

We race down the narrow paths, heading towards the tattoo place. When we get there, Al is already sitting down, a small man with more ink than bare skin is drawing a spider on his arm, and I think it's really cool.

Christina and Will flip through pictures of tattoos, elbowing each other when they find a good one. When they sit next to each other, me and Tris spot the opposites between them. Christina is dark and lean; while Will is pale and solid. They are only alike in their smiles.

Tris leaves me to walk around the room, to look at art on the walls, while I get up and search around for a tattoo or piercing that would suit me. The artwork is great, and I am not sure what to pick, until one literally falls on me.

The one that I pick up from falling off of a high shelf is beautiful. It's two swirls curling inwards, with space on top and below for writing. I know what I want now, and I know where I want it. I walk to the counter, where someone is looking through a newspaper. They look up when I approach and smile broadly. Her teeth are wide and crooked, but her smile makes me smile back.

"This one?" She asks, and I nod. She pushes some paper towards me. "Write down what you want, and where you want it. I'll set up a stand." She tells me, and I take the paper and a pencil. I draw out the design, and a map of my body, just to be clear. Above the swirls, I wire my full name. Alexandria Manx, and below, I write something that Dillion told me before he left. "Never forget where you came from." I somehow suits the situation. It looks amazing. She beckons me over and takes the paper, smiling slightly.

"You are a very strange one." She laughs and starts to prep me for the needle, adding antiseptic and everything. She then gets the needle and starts the design. It doesn't hurt, per se tingles. It feels amazing when it's done, and she covers it with a bandage. "Keep that one for three days, and then rub some of this lotion on it, and you got yourself a tattoo." She takes some credits from me and I put my top back on. It's right above the line where the top ends on my back, just below my neck.

I head back towards the others, as Christina and Will are still looking over designs. Tris has the same bandage as me around her shoulder and Al is finishing with the tattoo man. We are all Dauntless now.


	10. Chapter 9

**Oh my lord, I am SO sorry for not updating! My best friend Hannah and I have had exams all week, and I've been so busy with dance and cooking and friends' birthdays! I wish I had updated earlier, but I really couldn't. **

**I am very so very so very sorry..**

**Loads of love from me (and Hannah),**

**Lisa xxx**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

"Since there are ten of you, one pair will not have to fight today, there isn't enough time for all of you." Four says, stepping away from the boards, and I sigh in relief. I don't have to fight, and I don't have to fight Tris. I would have to hurt her. She's like my Faction buddy. I don't want to hurt her in any way.

"This isn't good." Christina nudges Tris, who bumps into my. Her elbow must have prodded a sore muscle of Tris, because she nearly elbows me in pain. She winces, and Christina mumbles an apology.

"Sorry, but look, I'm up against the Tank." She whispers, and I look up at the board. The name is "Molly", she is going to kill Christina. I freeze up, and stiffen, I don't want to watch someone get beaten by a bully, especially not Christina; not after Marcus.

I love Christina like the sister I never had. She's basically Max, but without the boyishness and more femininity. She's always looking out for Tris, which is what I'm glad for, because Tris was my first friend; before Dillion and Tobias. She was always there for me, so now me and Christina have to be there for her. She's sweet and kind, but totally Dauntless and daring. Christina is who I aspire to be. She's like a mix of the Factions, without Erudite, she isn't all that clever, apparently.

"The Tank?" Tris asks, and I whisper to her, as not to let Peter hear.

"Peter's more feminine-looking minion." I reply, nodding toward the small group of people on the other side of the room. Molly is tall, much like Christina, but that's where all the similarities end. She has broad shoulders, while Christina is quite petite; she has bronze skin, like Chris is more tanned and lighter; Molly has a bulbous nose, Christina's nose fits her perfectly.

"Those three-" Christina points to Peter, Molly and another boy, who seems to be in their circle-"have been inseparable since they crawled out of the womb, practically. I hate them." I nod along with her an stare at them. I hate them too.

Will and Al stand across from each other in the arena. They are on guard, their hands by their faces in protection. They shuffle in circles around each other, careful to not let their guard drop, and not let the other get hurt. Al is half a foot taller than Will, and is twice as broad. Al is generally bigger than Will. He has a bigger nose, lips, eyes, even his teeth are bigger than the average human's. This fight won't last long at all, if Al starts to move in, or if Will throws a punch.

I glance at Peter, not much at his friends, as I know Tris is also watching them. The other boy is short, shorter than Peter and Molly; but he is built for this sort of thing. He's as large as a boulder, and his shoulders are always hunched, or maybe they're drooped. Not too sure. His hair is blood orange, maybe red; the color of a shriveled carrot.

"What's wrong with them?" Tris asks, looking the three over,

"Peter is pure evil. When we were kids, he would pick fights with other people from other factions, and when an adult would come and break it up, he'd cry and make up some story about how the other kid started it. And of course they believed him, because we were Candor, and couldn't lie." She wrinkles her nose in disgust and adds. "Drew is just his sidekick. I doubt he has any independent thought in his brain. And Molly... well, she's the kind of person who fries ants with a magnifying glass just to watch them flail around." She finishes and I nod, turning back to the three; so that's his name, Drew.

In the arena, everyone is brought out of their thoughts when Al punches Will hard, across the jaw. I wince and spot everyone else who cares doing the same. Across the room, Eric smirks at Al and turns one of the rings in his eyebrows. I hate him too. He scares me.

Will stumbles to the side, one hand pressed to his face, and blocks Al's next punch with his free hand. Judging my his grimace, blocking the punch is as painful as the full blow would have been. Al is slow, but he's powerful.

Peter, Drew and Molly cast furtive looks in our direction and they pull their heads together, whispering.

"I think they know we're talking about them." Tris whispers and I laugh out loud, drawing attention to me. I mouth sorry and turn my head back to the other two.

"Honey, they know we hate them." I say, and Chris nods.

"How?" Tris asks, and me and Christina turn in unison, put on a dashing fake smile and wave at them, jokingly. Tris looks down, her cheeks heating up into a blush. Embarrassed. I love gossiping, it's great. I look over to the fight and see Will hook a foot around Al's legs and yanking back, knocking Al to the ground. Al scrambles back to his feet.

"Because I've told them." She says, her teeth gritted into a smile. Her teeth are straight on top, but slightly crooked on the bottom. She looks at us. "We try to be pretty honest about our feelings in Candor. Plenty of people have told me they don't like me, and plenty of people haven't. Who cared?" She asks, and Tris shakes her head.

"We weren't supposed to hurt people purposefully." Tris whispers and I shake my head this time.

"I like to think I'm helping them by hating them." She shrugs. "I'm reminding them that they aren't God's gift to humankind."

I laugh at that, and so does Tris, as we all focus back on the arena. Will and Al face each other for a few more seconds, more hesitant than I was before. Will flicks his pale hair from his face and they glance at Four, like they're waiting for him to call the fight off, but he stands with his arms folded, giving no response. A few feet away, Eric checks his watch.

"Do you think this is a leisure activity? Should we break for nap-time? Fight each other." Eric screams, and a chill runs down my spine; not a good one. I have a feeling he will move, and then he will be closer to me, and I don't want that.

"But..." Al straightens, letting his hands down, and he says, "Is it scored or something? When does the fight end?"

"It ends when one of you is unable to continue." Says Eric, but then Four steps in.

"According to Dauntless rules, one of you could also concede." He glares at Eric, and he narrows his eyes in return.

"According to the OLD rules, yeah." He snickers. "The new rules state that no-one can concede."

"A brave man acknowledges the strength of other." Four replies, calmly.

"A brave man never surrenders."

Eric and Four stare at each other for a few seconds. I feel like I am looking at the two sides of Dauntless; the honorable and the ruthless. But even I know that in this room, Eric holds the authority. Beads of sweat dot Al's forehead, he wipes them with the back of his hand.

"This is ridiculous." Al says, shaking his forehead, the sweat flying everywhere, "What's the point of beating him up? We're in the same faction!"

"Oh, you think it's going to be that easy?" Will tests, grinning at his friend. "Go on, try and hit me, slowpoke. _So that's the game. Turn it into something like a joke, something enjoyable, so it hurts less when you watch your friend crumple to the floor in front of you?_

Will puts his hands up again, and I am sure everyone can see the determination that dons Will's eyes. Al tries to punch, but Will dodges, the back of his neck shining with sweat. He dodges another punch, slipping around Al and kicking him hard in the back. Al lurches forwards, and turns.

He looks menacing, terrifying. He looks like a bear; something we learnt about in Lower School. There was a picture on the board of one, it was on its hind legs, with its paws outstretched and it was roaring so loudly. That is how Al looks to me. He charges at Will, grabbing his arm so he can't slip away and punches him in the same spot on the jaw.

I watch as the light leaves Will's eyes, which are pale green, much paler than mine or Peter's. They roll back into his head and all the tension falls from his body as he crumples to the floor. Cold rushes to me, and Al's eyes widen.

He crouches down, next to Will's body and taps his cheek. The room falls silent as we all wait for Will to respond. For a few seconds, he just lies there, and it looks like we aren't going to get a response, but then his eyes open, and he looks dazed for a second.

"Get him up." Eric barks. He stares with greedy eyes at Will's fallen body, like a tiger that hasn't seen food for a week. The curl of his lip is cruel. Four turns to the chalkboard and circles Al's name. He has victory.

"Next up- Molly and Christina." Eric shouts, as Al pulls Will's arm across his shoulders, struggling under the added weight and drags him out of the arena. Christina cracks her knuckles from beside me. I would wish her all the luck in the world if I thought it could help her, but I know it won't. Christina isn't weak, she just isn't Molly. Her body is narrow, and hopefully her height and slim will help her escape the blows enough to get a few in herself.

Across the room, Four takes Will's arm, and starts to escort him from the room, leaving Al behind; and I know I can't watch this fight, so I run to catch up, taking a quick stride and take half of Will's body weight from Four.

"I thought you could use some help, and I can't watch that fight with Eric being the judge." I explain myself, and instead of shouting, he just nods, and we haul Will down to the infirmary, to get him something for his bad concussion and to stop him babbling.

...

I head back to the area, but it's empty, and people are leaving, following Eric, who is half dragging Christina out of the room. I am confused, but I follow. We head towards the chasm, and I can feel the river and waterfall in my chest, vibrating my heart.

We stand right next to the railing. The Pit is almost empty, everyone is either working or relaxing; it is the middle of the afternoon. If there was anyone around, they wouldn't help us. Eric is a leader, they're just citizens. He shoves Christina against the railings and she gasps a breath.

"Climb over." He states, simply and she coughs up her words.

"What?" She says, like she expects him to relent, but her wide eyes and ashen face suggests otherwise.

"Climb over the railing." He says again, and this time he pronounces every word and syllable slowly. "If you can hang over the chasm for five minutes, I will forget your cowardice. If you can't, I will not allow you to continue with initiation." I can see the determination in her eyes as she looks at the railing. It is metal, but narrow. The spray from the river and waterfall coats it in water droplets, and makes it slippery and cold. Even if Christina is brave enough to hang for five minutes, she may not be able to hang on. Either she decides to be Factionless, or she flirts with death.

"Fine." She mutters, her voice shaking. She swings her legs over the railing, her feet shake, and she is barely strong enough to hold herself there like that. She puts her toe on the ledge and lifts the other legs over properly. Facing us, she wipes her hands on her pants and holds onto the railing so hard that her knuckles turn white. She then throws her legs off of the railing ledge and hangs over the edge of the river.

I push my way to the front as she dangles there, all of the initiates watching. I am glad I returned now, she can use my help to let her up when the five minutes is done. Al has set his watch for five minutes. The river starts to hit the wall, changing direction every now and again, spraying Christina with it's cold droplets, and making the railing harder to hang on to. She gets a better grip, but her hands are wet, and won't last.

If we help her now, Eric would make our fate the same as hers, but possibly for longer. Will I let her fall to her death if she slips? No. But I will not let Eric know that for now. If she falls, I will help her, but I cannot let Eric see our weakness, he will just rank us lower, and then we'd all be Factionless.

Christina doesn't cry. I have never seen her cry since we got here, she doesn't. But now, tears are rolling down her face and her sobbing is so loud, it isn't hushed by the river. Another wave hits the wall and the spray coats her. One droplet hits her cheeks, and her hands slip again. This time, one of them falls, and she is only hanging on by four fingers.

"Come in, Christina." Al encourages, his voice low, but loud across the chasm. She looks at him, and he claps. "Come on, grab it again. I know you can do it." I nod slowly, and smile at him. He's kind.

I can't help her much now, she only has two minutes left at most. Most. I know that I am just trying to distract myself from pulling her up myself. She swings her arm, fumbling with the railing. No-one else cheers her on, but Al brings his hands together again and shouts, his eyes holding hers. Like his eyes are giving her the strength to hold on. I know he feels bad for knocking Will out, so he's trying to help the next most important thing to him. Four minute have gone, one left. I try and encourage her further. I kneel, and look her right in the eye from my level.

"You can do it, girl. One minute left. Who will braid Tris's hair if you're gone, who will do my eyeliner, and pick out my clothes. Lord knows that Tris isn't going to do it." I am encouraging her at her own level. Tris has joined in now, her voice barely above a whisper, but is loud enough for us to hear it. Me, Al and Tris are all cheering her on now. Another wave hits the wall and splashes her back. She shrieks as both of her hands slip, but she grabs another part of the barrier as Tris screams. Al's watch bleeps, it's hit 5:00.

"Five minutes. That's enough." I spit my words at him, and he seems surprised for a moment, and then covers it. He takes his time, tilting his wrist, all the while I am ready to pull Christina up. My arms are ready and I am determined.

"Fine, you can come up Christina." He spits her name like it's dirt. I can't deal with it. I lean forwards to pick her up, but he shakes his hand and grabs my wrist.

"She can do it herself. She has to do it on her own." He lets go of my wrist and Al hold me back.

"No, she doesn't. She did what you said, she's not a coward. She did what you said." Al growls, and Eric doesn't reply at all. Al reaches over the railing to grab Christina's wrist, while I use my lower body strength to pull her upright. She grabs his forearm and his pulls her, while I push her body up. Tris grabs her shoulder once she's high enough, and we all haul her over the edge. She drops to the ground, freezing, her face smeared with blood, which I assume was from the fight, her back is soaking and she is quivering. I hold her close to me, hugging her, giving her my warmth. Her eyes lift to all of ours, and we all catch our breath.


End file.
